


Stoicism

by Moonsheen



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsheen/pseuds/Moonsheen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Shinji has a toothache, Asuka is annoyed, Rei is vaguely creepy, and Kaji is just generally the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stoicism

On the second week the toothache hadn’t gone away, but Shinji managed just fine. His jaw ached, and it hurt to chew. He stuck to instant soup and chewed on one side. He’d dealt with worse, like the feeling of having his arm broken, and the sensation of being boiled alive by a straight shot of energy to the chest.

Compared to that, a toothache wasn’t much. He made sure to brush around it as best he could. It only bled a little, and anyway he could get to sleep eventually if he just made sure not to tip his head too far on that side—

“Your connection is slipping,” said Ritsuko, over the speakers. “Please concentrate.”

‘I always concentrate,’ thought Shinji, irritated. He forced his thoughts back outwards.

“Yes, Ritsuko-san,” mumbled Shinji, through thin lips.

“Oooh?” leered Asuka over the intercom. “The Invincible Shinji? Letting himself be distracted by something trivial? Whatever could it BE.”

“Nothing,” snapped Shinji. LCL sloshed in his mouth. He grunted. Machines whined. “I’m fine.”

Asuka scoffed. Her contempt seem to vibrate in the test plug. “Talk big to me when my rates aren’t beating yours by point five—”

Her voice cut off.

“That’s enough for today,” said Ritsuko.

 

Shinji spent a half hour after the test coughing LCL into the sink. He rinsed. Spat. Rinsed again. The ache didn’t go away. The water made it worse. He put his face against the rim, letting the throb in his cheek die against the cool porcelain. He stayed like that until the sink got warm, and they started shutting off the lights in the hall. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes Asuka stalked the halls after tests while waiting for him to walk her home. Asuka couldn’t always find the right street. Sometimes Asuka didn’t believe real men left a woman waiting, so sometimes she went on ahead anyway. At least, Shinji was pretty sure that’s what happened. He didn’t risk the certain death of checking the other locker room for her. 

His lungs itched from the fluid as he slipped his plugsuit into the sealed plastic bags. He shoved the bag down the disposal chute. By then, the shooting pain had become a deeper ache. It was fine. He was fine. He was sure it was less than it had been the day before—

“It’s the smell.”

Ayanami. She’d been standing around the corner. Shinji almost walked into her. He froze, almost nose to nose with her. 

“E-excuse me?”

Ayanami’s eyelashes fluttered, slightly. She didn’t quite blink, just tilted her head to one side, and then forward. It was a very slow, purposeful motion. Shinji leaned back to get out of her way. 

Ayanami picked up her bag. It had been resting against the wall near Shinji’s foot. She straightened in one stiff motion. 

“Rotting,” said Ayanami. 

“What?”

Ayanami paused. “You,” she said, as though dragging the information from some far away memory. “You smell like rotting.”

“You mean… the LCL?” 

“No.” Ayanami turned with her bag and walked down the darkened hall. It was only after she’d vanished around the corner that Shinji wondered where she’d gone. The exit was in the opposite direction.

“Ayanami?” called Shinji.

No answer. It would’ve been weird to run after her, so he just turned and left.

 

“Soup again?” asked Asuka, watching with distaste as Shinji pushed aside some old wrappers and set the pot on the table.

“Mm,” said Shinji, carefully sucking an ice cube. He’d grabbed it from the freezer. The one that didn’t have the penguin in it.

“This is the third time this week,” said Asuka, as he set a dish in front of her.

“Hey, hey take it easy on him,” said Misato, the responsible adult. She knocked back her second beer. “You shouldn’t pass up a home-cooked meal.”

“Didn’t that come from a box?” asked Asuka.

“What doesn’t?” said Misato, with a thoughtful swirl of her drink. 

“Just because you’re drunk doesn’t make everything you say all wise,” groused Asuka.

“Well, I am grateful to be fed,” said Misato. “Thank you, Shin! It’s delicious!”

“...You could try it first,” said Shinji, sitting between them.

“It will be delicious,” said Misato.

Asuka sighed, and reached for the ladle. “It’ll taste the same as it did the last three times we had it.” She pinned Shinji with a sideways glare. “You could show some originality.”

“Mm.” Shinji tried his best not to swallow the ice. “If you don’t like it, you could make something. It’s pretty easy.”

“So that’s your motive.”

“I have a motive?”

“This is some weird wife thing, isn’t it?”

“Weird WHAT?” Shinji did swallow the ice cube, then. He coughed on it. Misato thwacked him on the back. His jaw burned, but he could breathe again. 

Asuka waited for him to sit back up before she answered. Which he guessed was her idea of mercy. “And what do you take me for?”

“Hungry?”

“Smartass,” said Asuka, but she ate it all and asked for seconds. 

 

The next day after school, a car pulled up on the curb. It pulled up with such a screech of tires. Several kids stopped.

“Welp,” said Toji, catching the ball he’d been kicking against the wall. “Looks like one of yours.”

Shinji felt his stomach drop out. There hadn’t been alarms. There hadn’t been a call. No one had come to get him last period.

“Mm,” said Shinji, and he turned. It would be Misato — if things weren’t too bad. A black suit with sunglasses, if things were really bad. And when there weren’t alarms, sometimes that meant things were going to get really, really…

A man got out of the car. He didn’t have sunglasses. He wasn’t wearing a suit. He wasn’t even wearing a tie. 

“Oh,” said Kensuke, all at once, “isn’t that...”

Kaji strolled up the path. There was nothing about him that was especially alarming. He kept an even pace, his hands firmly in his pockets. Still, Shinji wondered if someone should be told about this. Like Asuka. Or Misato. Or some kind of authority. 

Some kind of authority that wasn’t Misato or Kaji.

“You know,” said Kaji, glancing around, “they used to have winter uniforms, too. I always liked those more. Left something to the imagination, you know?”

“I don’t know,” said Shinji.

“Huh,” said Kaji, stopping. “Guess you wouldn’t. Well. You ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“That’s a no.” And then Kaji picked Shinji up and threw him over his shoulder.

“WHAT THE,” managed Shinji, as the world turned upside down. Kaji began to walk back to the car. Shinji could just make out Kensuke and Toji’s startled faces, growing smaller with each step. “WHAT ARE YOU... KAJI-SAN—”

“See you, chief,” said Toji.

“Get pictures,” said Kensuke.

“WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME.”

“Well, that was depressingly easy,” said Kaji, pinning him against his shoulder as he squirmed. “You’re really light.”

“PUT ME DOWN. I WON’T GO IF YOU DON’T TELL ME. I WON’T—”

Kaji did not put him down. Kaji swung around to get the car door. He gave Shinji a swift pat on the rear as he did it, squeezing the back of his leg for good measure. “Eeeeh, and Ritsuko wasn’t kidding about the muscle mass. That’s no good. There’s nothing here—”

Shinji’s squawk cut off in a startled wheeze. Kaji shoved him in the car.

 

They drove up the valley. Shinji pressed his face against the glass and tried not to think of how many classmate’s heard him screaming.

“Don’t mull over it too much,” said Kaji, cranking up the AC. “It’ll be a story to tell.”

“Mm.”

“Besides, I thought you might be stubborn about it.”

The glass, at least, felt cool. Shinji pressed his jaw against it a little more firmly. “Did Misato-san send you?”

“If only,” said Kaji, a little wistfully. “We’re not really on speaking terms right now.”

“Are you ever?”

“Heh,” said Kaji, cranking the AC another notch. “Nope.”

Shinji tried another tack. “Did my father send you?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think he cares,” said Shinji. “Am I being kidnapped?”

Kaji lifted a hand off the wheel, indicating with his middle and index finger. “Maybe a bit,” he said, and for the first time Shinji couldn’t help but notice how beat up Kaji’s hands looked. His knuckles were covered in tiny white scars, with shiny round burn mark closer to his wrist. Where did a person get a scar that looked like that? It was so perfectly round. It didn’t look like it had been an accident...

“So, I hear you play the cello.”

Shinji bumped his head against the window as they turned a corner. “Huh? …Only sort of. Who told you that?”

“Your personal belongings are on record. You didn’t bring a lot. It stands out. Pre-Impact cello. Don’t glare at me like that. I’m not making fun of you. I don’t really know much about music, and wouldn’t be able to play for shit, even if I had the head for it.”

The hand hovering over the wheel turned into a flexing fist.

Shinji sighed. “You’re going to tell me a story.”

Kaji glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Smartass,” he said, almost approvingly. “I was just going to say some guy stomped on my hand.”

“Oh,” said Shinji, all at once the throb was back in his jaw. The world got a little dim and strange. He took his cheek off the window. 

“But if you want a story, yes, he got me good,” said Kaji, holding his hand open. He moved each of his fingers one after the other. “Could’ve been worse. I managed to get away without getting my fingers completely smashed. I bundled it up. Went about my day. It healed up all right. I can hold a coffee can and, well, as an adult you’ll learn that is what’s important in life. But my ring finger can’t really get it to go higher than this — see?”

Kaji turned his hand over, and this time Shinji saw it: one finger dipping just a bit lower than the rest of them. It seemed silly, it seemed like Kaji should have just been able to lift it up with the others, but now that he looked — really looked — he thought he could see the odd crook to it, a bend that wasn’t just the natural line of...

Shinji kept his own hands firmly clutched around the car seat. “Did you go to the doctor?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They were all dead,” said Kaji. “Second Impact didn’t really do a lot of good for the health care industry.”

He put his hand back on the wheel. The car turned at a row of trees. The small office complex swung into view. 

“Things are a little better now, though,” said Kaji. “Angels notwithstanding.”

“Kaji-san,” said Shinji, “that was the worst story I ever heard.”

“I appreciate the compliment,” said Kaji. He brought the car up along the entrance, a sign in front listed the various specialities of the offices in the complex. ‘’Better hop to it, kiddo. Third floor, end of the hall. Your appointment’s at four.”

 

“Thanks for letting me borrow him,” Kaji said, one hand lifted against the inevitable storm.

It came, blistering from the front door.

“Borrow?” roared Misato. “Borrow? You ASSHOLE, I had seven security people calling me in a panic. NERV had a whole UNIT out LOOKING for you two until I called it off. This kind of thing is grounds for a court martial! You don’t just march into some high school and BORROW A KID—”

“...need to do a second thing next week,” mumbled Shinji, a coolant pack carefully pressed to his jaw. The novocaine hadn’t quite worn off, but he was supposed to keep an eye on the swelling. “Is the same time okay? And, um, they said I have to take some antibiotics, but I wasn’t sure if Ritsuko-san would be okay with that.”

Misato blinked. He could see her shift out of hellfire mode. Behind her, Shinji caught a glimpse of Asuka stopping short and then racing back up the hall. “Oh. Well, yeah, Shin, the time should be fine — SINCE I’LL GET CLEARANCE FIRST — but leeeet me doublecheck about those antibiotics. Do you have the bottle?”

Shinji held out the bag. Misato snatched it, squinting at the label.

“...hell if I can read this. I’ll check with Ritsuko,” she sighed and, remembering herself, rounded on Kaji again. “As for YOU—”

Kaji opened his fingers to peer through them. It was the crooked hand. His face was relaxed, but Shinji could see him shift a little, ready for the next stage of the fight. “Yes?”

“...Thanks for doing this,” said Misato, stiffly. “I guess you’ll want something in return, huh?”

“That’s a little uncharitable,” said Kaji, “but dinner’d be great.”

“Then get in,” said Misato, “and if you say something creepy, I swear to god... Where did I put the phone…”

“Mmmbehind the ramen tower,” said Shinji, quietly.

“That’s RIGHT, thanks Shin. You two can clear some space. I’ll check about the meds and...” Misato’s voice receded down the hall. “Asuka, could you unlock the door?”

“I am CHANGING,” came an imperious reply.

“You were completely dressed a second ago!” shouted Misato.

“I am changing into something BETTER,” said Asuka. “You do that when you have COMPANY. Oh my GOD.”

Left alone in the common area, Shinji looked up at Kaji.

“Kaji-san?” he managed. His mouth felt fuzzy, like he had a sock in it.

“Mm?”

“Did you do this to get a chance to talk to Misato-san?”

“Yup.”

“So you totally used me.”

“Yup.”

“...Mm,” said Shinji. At least someone was honest about it, for a change.

Kaji nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, don’t sulk. I multitask. Would you drive yourself to the dentist?”

“Mm,” said Shinji, shifting the pack against his jaw as he bent to move boxes off the table. Kaji did the same. Kaji could navigate Misato’s mess surprisingly well. It took most everyone else at least five minutes to get over the initial shock. He gave Pen Pen the most basic of nods, as though greeting an old associate.

Down the hall Shinji heard more shouting.

“Change back.”

“What? Is this too much for you?”

“Try ‘illegal.’ I’m not letting you out in that.”

“I’ve seen some of the things you keep in YOUR closet—”

Shinji’s jaw started to burn. That meant the drugs were wearing off.

“Kaji-san,” he said, while he could still think.

“Hm?” Kaji looked up from shuffling through old magazine subscriptions.

“Was it Ayanami?” When that earned him nothing but a raised eyebrow, Shinji elaborated, swallowing around the fuzziness in his mouth. “Who told you, I mean. About. Er.”

“Rei saying something on her own?” Kaji whistled, and set the magazines on the kitchen counter. “Now that’s a thought.”

“...So, not Ayanami.”

“Not Ayanami,” said Kaji. “Try ‘Soryu.’”

“Asuka? But--” The drugs were definitely wearing off. Shinji buried his face against the ice pack. He dropped himself into his chair -- tired and confused, but mostly tired. “Mmf.”

“Went on and on about it,” said Kaji, his eyes following the shadows in the hall, as Shinji slouched against the kitchen table. “She said you were eating ice cubes and hiding out after tests. She ordered me to do something, since you’d just try to tough it out. Stupid way to beat someone’s sync scores, or something like that.”

“Oh,” said Shinji. 

It did sound an awful lot like something she’d say.

**Author's Note:**

> based on that time in college I told myself my cold wasn't that bad, right up until the doctor old me I had severe bronchitis. I took a final on codeine and learned a very valuable lesson. dear my friends from that time: I am so very, very sorry.


End file.
